


No More Secrets, No More Lies

by ChucklesCPfic



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: AU, Angst, Anti-Janeway, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6202717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChucklesCPfic/pseuds/ChucklesCPfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story based on the well-used premise that Starfleet has no tolerance for same-sex relationships. (Written between June 2001 & May 2002)</p><p>This fic has a marked anti-Janeway theme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No More Secrets

Title: No More Secrets, No More Lies  
Author: Chuckles  
Pairing: C/P  
Rating: PG

 

 **Tom's POV**

I'm standing here in the dark, in the smallest observation lounge, waiting for someone to come and answer my questions.

I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know it's madness; that I might lose everything that I've worked so hard for over the years, but I have to know. I have to find out. I can't continue like this any longer.

I know all about Starfleet's official, and undisguised, hostility towards same-sex relationships. I've seen how they've treated some of their finest officers when they were discovered to be in these so-called 'abhorrent' partnerships. How decent men and women have been subjected to Starfleet's archaic and ridiculous rules, and how they've been court-martialed, or otherwise unceremoniously forced to leave the lives that they'd made for themselves. And all because some so-called 'moral' elite decided what was, or wasn't, acceptable human behaviour for Starfleet personnel.

Actually, I shouldn't say 'human'. For the last ten years the ruling has applied to members of every species who have signed up to serve the Federation. Regardless of their 'normal' sexual behaviour, all recruits have to agree to liaisons with members of the opposite sex only. It's part of every recruit's standard contract. Legal and binding.

Why should we be dictated to, in our private lives, by a self-righteous panel of anachronistic busybodies? I hate them all! But even more, I hate the way the rules are so rigidly enforced. Even here, on a ship so far from home, in the heart of the Delta Quadrant, we are not immune to the constraints of Starfleet.

A few months ago, two junior crew members were reported for holding hands in public. They were given the option of spending six months in the brig, or leaving the ship. They chose to leave. Their crime? - they were both men. No thought was given to the fact that they were both damn fine officers with exemplary records, or that their expertise would be sorely missed. No, all that mattered was their 'deviant' and 'unacceptable' behaviour!

It was at this time that I began to seriously wonder about Chakotay. I know he wasn't happy with the way the two men were treated, and I could tell that he didn't agree with their punishment, either. The Commander was expected to sit in judgement with Janeway and Tuvok, but he refused on the grounds that he was generally regarded as the ship's counsellor. He argued that some crew members came to him regularly, and that he couldn't then be expected to judge actions that may have already been told to him in confidence. He stated that his role in listening to others' problems was too important to the welfare of the ship to risk. His reasoning for not being involved with the case was sound, but I really think there might be more behind his adamant insistence not to be included on the panel. I hope so.

That's what I want to find out. I want to know what his real opinions are. How he really feels about this stupid Starfleet regulation that says we can't love someone if they're not of the opposite sex. I know, when we were first lost out here, he signed the contract agreeing to abide by Starfleet rules, as I did too; we had no choice. We had to work together if we wanted to survive and maybe reach home one day. Voyager is a Starfleet vessel, and Janeway is a stickler for regulation. She made all the Maquis sign the contract, and she enforces every word of it without exception. So why do I want to know what Chakotay thinks? And why do I think that he might confide in me anyway?

Well, for one thing, he's a good man, and his opinion carries a lot of weight with almost everyone. Including me. I know we didn't see eye to eye at the beginning, but that was mostly my fault. I used to wind him up by acting arrogant; it was the only way I could keep my real feelings hidden.

Yes, I have feelings for him. Feelings that Starfleet regulations say I shouldn't have. And I suspect that he might have similar feelings for me. I've noticed the way he's looked at me sometimes, when he thought I wasn't watching. I've seen the mixture of desire and frustration in his dark eyes. He's probably seen the same thing in mine recently. It's getting harder to control.

That's why I believe, if I can talk to him privately, he might confide in me. I trust him, and I know he trusts me. If our feelings are mutual, though, do we dare risk our positions on this ship? I would, without a doubt. But would he?

I'm probably jumping the gun a bit with that line of thought, but I can't help it. I want him. I've spent too many years denying my real self. I've chased after various women to hide my true nature, and I don't want to do it any more. I'm sick of living a lie brought about by the threat of reprisals. I want to be me! I want to be the real Tom Paris. The Tom Paris who's in love with Chakotay. 

 

 **Chakotay's POV**

It's quiet as I walk down the dimly lit corridor; this part of the ship isn't frequented by many of the crew. I had a message from Tom Paris, asking me to meet him in the small observation lounge down here. I think I might know what he wants.

Ever since those two crewmen were left behind on Delkarvik Prime, I've seen a change come over Tom. He's been restless. And although he's never actually broken the rules these last few months, he doesn't appear to have much respect left for them. I can't say I blame him.

I mean, of all the ridiculous reasons to leave two good men behind! All they did was express their feelings for each other by holding hands. Six months in the brig, or leave the ship. I think they chose correctly. At least now they can live out their lives the way they wanted to - together, with no more fear of being reported by overzealous and petty crew mates.

Janeway wanted me to sit in judgement of them with her and Tuvok. There was no way I could have done that. I expressed my concern that a place on the panel would conflict with my role of 'counsellor', that I didn't want to jeopardise the crew's trust in me. I doubt, if I hadn't been excused from the post, that many people would have confided in me afterwards. Despite the fact that this was a real concern, it wasn't my only reason for refusing to judge the two men. You see, it would have been hypocritical of me to do so.

I know I signed the Starfleet contract - twice actually - but I did so out of necessity. The first time I didn't really care what I was signing, I just wanted to follow my childhood dream of a career in Starfleet. I didn't have any sexual experience then, so the rules regarding what we were, or were not allowed to do never worried me.

It wasn't until I'd left and joined the Maquis, that I realised how restrictive and utterly shameful Starfleet regulations were. No-one should have the right to say who we can or cannot love. No-one. It should be the choice of each individual to follow their heart wherever it leads. Why should I be forced to pursue women when it's contrary to my desires? I found out in the Maquis what my preferences are. I prefer men. That's what I think Tom wants to talk to me about.

I think I've been slipping lately. I've inadvertently allowed my feelings for him to show. I've tried so hard over the years to hide it, but it's too difficult now. And I've reached the point where I don't want to hide anything any more. I believe Tom might want to quit the pretence as well. I hope so.

I've known all along that he was attracted to me. All that arrogance he showed was just to hide his true feelings. I never let him know that I'd figured it out though. That was how I dealt with my feelings for him; I let him think he was winding me up, that I was angry with him - nothing else. In truth, I needed the conflict. It diverted everyone's attention away from my innermost secret. They have never suspected that I'm in love with Tom Paris. Neither has he, until now.

I _do_ think he knows now. Or at least he suspects as much. It's a relief really; I've wanted to speak with him on many occasions. I know though, that he wouldn't have been willing to discuss this before. I think he's ready now. Why else would he have invited me to this clandestine rendezvous?

I love Tom, and I hope he loves me, but can anything ever come of it? I don't want to live this secret life any longer. I'm sick and tired of being on my own because of crazy regulations. Yes, I could have found companionship with one of the women, but it wouldn't have been fair to either of us. And like I said before, why should I when it isn't what I really want? What I really want is Tom.

I would be willing to give up my position on this ship for him. Is he willing yet to go that far for me? I don't know. I hope to find out shortly though. I can see the door to the lounge ahead, and I suddenly feel very nervous. I can hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears, and my palms are sweaty as I walk forward.

"Please, Great Spirits, give me your support and guidance. I need your help at this important moment in my life. Hear my pleas and watch over me. Please. Help me to speak from my heart."

The prayer helps to calm me as the door slides open, and I see Tom standing in front of the viewport. He turns around and smiles at me, and in that instant I know that we will be together.

We won't be able to stay on Voyager, and we won't see the Alpha Quadrant again, but it doesn't matter, because home is where the heart is. And as I look at Tom, I know for sure that our hearts are destined to be together. Eternally. 

 

 **Tom's POV**

It's been six months now since Chakotay came to meet me in that small observation lounge in a virtually deserted area of Voyager. And five months since we left that ship, together. They've been the happiest five months of my life, so far.

You see, I was right about him. He _did_ have the same kind of feelings for me that I had for him. And he was just as tired of concealing them as I was. We decided that night that we wouldn't hide _anything_ any more. Not from each other, and not from the rest of the crew. There would be no more secrets.

We knew we were setting ourselves up for trouble. We knew what the consequences would be. But we didn't care.

We were still over thirty years away from reaching the Alpha Quadrant. We couldn't have hidden our feelings for that long. And why should we have had to live our lives without the love that we craved? Our love for each other.

Yes, Chakotay loves me. He told me that night. We talked and talked. And talked! We talked like we hadn't seen each other in years. Like we were best friends. Like lovers. We told each other our deepest secrets, and our hidden desires. We told each other everything. It was wonderful. I've never felt that relaxed with anyone else.

I truly believe now that we are soul-mates. I'd never given much thought to that term, or concept, before, but that's what Chakotay and I are. We were meant for each other.

We told the Captain about us the following morning. She was livid. After she'd recovered from her shock, that is. I don't think I've ever seen someone change colour so much in such a short time. She went through every shade from deathly white to a deep, angry red, in about ten seconds flat.

Chakotay changed colour a lot, too. I can't ever remember seeing him as angry as he was that morning. He'd tried to stay calm, and he'd managed for quite a while, then Janeway uttered the most ridiculous comment I've ever heard. She accused Chakotay of not being a 'real man'. Can you believe that? _Chakotay_ not a real man! He's the most wonderful man I've ever known. And just what _is_ a 'real man' supposed to be, anyway?

I think it was probably jealousy that prompted her to say it. I got the impression that she thought all she had to do was click her fingers and Chakotay would be hers. She couldn't handle the fact that he wasn't interested in her. That he chose me instead. That Chakotay loved me and not her.

Chakotay was incredible. Like I said, I've never seen him so angry, but he didn't shout. He didn't rant and rave. His anger was only visible in the colours of his face, and that quiet tone of voice he uses sometimes. I've been on the receiving end of that tone before, and it put the fear of God in me! I don't know how he does it, but he somehow manages to convey more menace in a few softly spoken words than anyone screaming abuse at you _ever_ could.

That's what he did to Janeway. He just calmly stated our intentions to pursue a relationship whether she liked it or not. That we had no intention of remaining on board. That we would be leaving the first chance we got. And she sat and listened.

She listened as he told her that he loved me. That he wouldn't sit back and be dictated to any longer as to who he could, or couldn't spend the rest of his life with. How he'd chosen me, and I'd chosen him.

He told her he knew we would have to be formally charged. And that we didn't care. She'd set a precedent by allowing those two young officers a choice of the brig or leaving. She would have to give us the same choice. And as we'd already made that choice, we weren't worried about the charges.

The only thing that _had_ worried Chakotay, was how his old Maquis crew would react to his departure. It was a needless worry as it turned out. They understood his reasons. They never once accused him of being anything other than a wonderful Captain and First Officer, and a well-respected and honourable man. It meant the world to him. He had to really struggle to keep his tears at bay.

Then came a surprise. Greg Ayala came to see us. He said he had something to tell us, and a request to make. After hearing what he had to say, the request was easy to grant.

Four weeks later, Voyager took up orbit around a beautiful, and uninhabited M-class planet. This was to be our new home. Chakotay's and mine, and Ayala's and Gerron's. Yes, that's what Ayala had wanted to tell us. He and Geron were also tired of keeping their relationship secret.

None of us had wanted to be left in the middle of some unknown alien culture, and thankfully, Janeway had agreed that we could choose our own destination. We chose this beautiful world. It's idyllic. There are no large carnivores and very few poisonous species - either plant or animal. We couldn't have chosen anywhere better. And Chakotay and I both agree that having Ayala and Geron here is a bonus. They're great company. We've accomplished so much together.

We've just finished constructing the first of two cabins. We were left with one large shelter, but none of us wanted to live in that indefinitely. We began working on the new place almost as soon as we arrived. It's been hard work, but well worth it.

Today, we drew straws to determine who would take up occupancy of the new cabin. Chakotay and I move in tomorrow. The day after, we'll start building again.

This is our home now. 

 

 **B'Elanna's POV**

Six months, and I _still_ can't believe they're gone. Why the hell did Janeway insist on enforcing the rules so strictly? Because of her inflexibility, we lost our First Officer and Senior Pilot. Not to mention four other valuable members of our crew. We can never replace them. Personally, I think Janeway's more than just a little crazy!

I don't think she took Chakotay seriously when he said he was leaving. I think she believed his 'sense of duty' would keep him on board. She was wrong. She'd forgotten just how passionate about certain things he could be. And he was obviously passionate in his feelings for Tom.

I know the relationship between Chakotay and Tom came as quite a surprise, but so what? They carried out their duties efficiently. They risked their lives, frequently. But it meant nothing - Janeway still treated them like shit! Who, in their right mind, allows six good men to leave because they don't conform to Starfleet's idea of what's 'normal'? A crazy woman, that's who!

Here we are, stuck in the Delta Quadrant on a ship that's already understaffed, and she dispenses with six vital crew members! Now, tell me that's the action of a sane person. You can't, can you? Because it isn't.

If only we hadn't promised Chakotay that we wouldn't cause trouble. If only we could tell Janeway _exactly_ where she can stick her beloved regulations.

The thing is, we haven't just lost good officers, we've lost good friends; members of our 'family'. At least, I _thought_ we were a family. I thought Janeway saw herself as a sort of 'mother figure'. She's turned out to be more like the wicked stepmother from some of those old Earth stories I've heard.

All she's ever concerned with, is sticking to the rules. She doesn't give a damn about how those rules actually affect people's lives. And I'm not talking just about the six men who were forced to leave. I'm talking about their colleagues who are still on this ship.

Take Harry, for example. Tom was his best friend. He was devastated when he found out that Tom was leaving. He's been subdued ever since. He has other acquaintances, I know, but he no longer has anyone who he feels he can confide in. He's not the same person any more. That ridiculous regulation affected more people than Janeway will ever realise. You see, it's had a sort of 'knock-on' effect.

Because Harry has changed, the way he treats other people has changed. They, in turn, are affected by this, and so it continues. It's like a huge chain wending its way throughout the ship. Each person is linked to the next, and each is affected by the mood of the people around them. And the mood isn't good.

Neelix has tried so hard to raise morale, but it's an uphill struggle. How _can_ he raise the crew's morale, when his own is at an all-time low? He misses Tom almost as much as Harry does. He misses Chakotay, too. And Ayala and Gerron, and Davies and Lorat.

Neelix has always tried to take care of everyone. They haven't always appreciated his efforts, but, still, he's tried. He was good friends with all six men, and their departures hit him hard. He really _does_ feel as though he's lost a big part of his family. But, he's just one casualty among many, I'm afraid.

The problem is, it's hard for people to just forget about those who left. They can't. Especially when we get into a bit of a scrape. It's always 'Tom would have got the ship away faster' or 'Chakotay would have known what to do', or some such phrase. And, nine times out of ten, they're right. Tom _was_ our best pilot; he _could_ get us out of the trickiest positions with his skilful flying. And Chakotay was a very knowledgeable and capable First Officer; his quick thinking saved us on numerous occasions.

But, no more. They've both gone. Left behind, six months ago, on an uninhabited planet in the middle of the Delta Quadrant. It's just not right! How the hell Janeway manages to sleep at night, is beyond my comprehension. If we ever make it back to the Alpha Quadrant, I wonder how she'll explain her actions to six families that will never see their sons, brothers or whatever, again? How does she justify her actions to _herself?_ Oh yes, I know, 'It was just regulations'!

Well, d'you know what _I_ think about rules and regulations? They were made to be broken! And that's what we did before we left our friends behind. Despite Janeway's ruling that the men were only allowed one shelter and the bare minimum of supplies, they ended up with much, much more.

Harry and I collected rations from well over half the crew. We used them to replicate a variety of basic tools, blankets and medicines. Then, we covertly transported them down to the planet's surface. We covered our tracks well; Janeway is still none the wiser.

I just hope our efforts have helped, in some small way, to make our friends' new lives easier. And perhaps, when they snuggle together under one of the blankets, they might sometimes think of us. 

They are in our thoughts constantly. We'll never forget them.

 

 **Chakotay's POV**

The lake is calm, the water reflecting the soft light of this planet's moon. A warm, gentle breeze is blowing across our campsite, and it brings with it the heady scent of the pale yellow blossom that smothers the tall trees standing in a group nearby. The night is balmy, and almost silent; just the occasional sound of a hidden insect breaks the stillness. The conditions are perfect for contemplation.

I gaze up at the twinkling stars above me, thinking again of Voyager and the people on board her. I pray that they are safe and that they will one day reach the Alpha Quadrant, where they will be welcomed back into the waiting arms of their families.

I would have liked to have seen my family again. They would have greeted my homecoming with noisy feasts and rituals. And love. Lots of love. But it will never be. This is where I will remain until the end of my days. _Willingly_. Here. With Tom.

My family will understand. They will know that I could have made no other choice, that I didn't _want_ to make any other choice. They will understand that my love for Tom outweighed any other consideration, that I needed _him_ more than I needed them. They won't condemn me for my decision.

I spoke with my old Maquis crew before I left. They didn't condemn me, either. I had been worried that they wouldn't understand, that they would think I was being selfish by leaving them; abandoning them. They didn't see it that way at all, though. They weren't happy that I was leaving, but they supported my decision. They knew the situation wouldn't allow me to stay; that I couldn't have stayed if it meant being without Tom.

They promised me that they would not cause trouble on my behalf, and that they would continue to work as part of the team, giving Voyager as much chance as possible of returning home. I know they are still doing that, and I am very proud of them.

I'm very proud of Tom, as well. He's worked so hard since we've been here. On top of all his chores and responsibilities, he's still found time to contribute more. He used to gripe about his shifts in sickbay, but he learnt more there than even _he_ had realised, and he's been imparting his knowledge to the rest of us. He began by tutoring Gerron. Our young friend picked up the basics very quickly, and is keen to learn. It's as well he _is_ a quick study.

Last month, we all took a break from house building. While Tom and I were off exploring the mountains, Greg became ill. He'd mistaken poisonous berries for edible ones, and after ingesting them, lost consciousness. Gerron handled the situation expertly. He was able to counteract the toxin, and in doing so saved his partner's life. Ultimately, though, it was Tom's concern that we should all learn basic medicine that prevented Ayala's death.

Tom and I returned two days after the event, and, after Greg had completely recovered, we all resumed our construction work. We finished the second cabin a few days ago; it stands alongside Tom's and mine. We'd originally thought to build them further apart, but it's easier to maintain a power supply to both homes this way. Greg and Gerron were so happy to finally move out of the shelter, that we all celebrated well into the night. Our supply of potent home-made wine was severely depleted by the following morning.

We would never have been able to construct these cabins as easily, or as quickly, if not for our friends on Voyager. Harry and B'Elanna replicated a lot of useful tools for us. They had obtained the rations from a large proportion of the crew. B'Elanna told me it would have been more, but they ran out of time. We'll always be very grateful for their efforts, and their kindness. The buildings are a permanent reminder of their concern for us, and we think of them each time we step inside. Even after nine months, we still miss them. We always will. It's impossible to just forget about people who you've spent years working with - people you've fought alongside, who have risked their lives for you, and for whom you've risked your own life. They will forever remain in our hearts.

As it has done on the odd occasion, a nagging thought invades my mind: what if those crazy regulations had never existed, or at least, had never been enforced? None of this would ever have happened and the four of us, along with Davies and Lorat, would be continuing to help with the voyage to the Alpha Quadrant. 

I remind myself again that it's a futile thought, however, because the rules _did_ exist, and they _were_ enforced, and as I lie here in the dark with Tom sleeping soundly in my arms, I know for certain that I made the right choice in leaving Voyager; I don't have a single doubt in my mind that what we did was right.

I love Tom, and he loves me. And here, in our new home, we will _never_ be parted. 

Nothing else really matters.


	2. No More Lies

**Harry's POV**

I can't believe we're back here. After fourteen months, we're once again in orbit around this beautiful unnamed planet. The one where the Captain abandoned my best friend, Tom, along with his lover, Chakotay, and two other men, Ayala and Gerron. 

They were left behind because of the pettiness of Starfleet regulations and Captain Janeway's refusal to relax the rules, even though we're miles from home, stuck in the Delta Quadrant. And if she'd had her way, if circumstances hadn't dictated otherwise, we wouldn't be here now. The decision to return was forced upon Janeway. She had no choice in the matter.

It was just over six months after leaving our friends, that we ran into serious trouble. We'd survived a few skirmishes in that time, but they were nothing compared to the onslaught we sustained from the Gabadians. They were the sort to 'shoot first and ask questions later'.

For a whole month, we'd travelled without incident. Then, out of the blue, we were attacked by a succession of small ships. They fired incessantly at us for over two hours. Finally, and just as our shields had dropped to an almost critical level, the ships broke away, leaving us in a state of frenzied activity as we tried desperately to repair the damage they'd caused.

Fortunately, our shields had mostly done their job. The majority of the damage we sustained had happened during the first unprovoked attacks, when we were momentarily caught off guard. The crew worked determinedly to make the repairs, not even letting up when the next wave of marauders caught up with us less than an hour later.

Once again, we were fired upon relentlessly. We were chased, forced to reverse course, hounded until our shields were about to give out. Then, just as we were preparing to defend ourselves against what we believed would be their next step - a boarding party - we received a hail from the lead ship. 

As the small vessels that had attacked began to arrange themselves around us, I followed the Captain's orders to answer the communication. Our viewscreen came to life, showing a large, fierce-looking humanoid who informed us that his name was Evgra Diral. He then demanded that we return the way we had come, vacating Gabadian space. As our ship was in no condition to withstand another attack, the Captain had no choice but to comply. 

For the next six months, we were continually shadowed by Gabadian ships. We were not allowed to complete repairs. We tried to raise our shields once, having managed to get them to a respectable eighty percent, but as soon as we did we were attacked by a dozen vessels. Evgra Diral contacted us, explaining, with what looked like a sneer on his face, that we were effectively under arrest for trespassing, and would have to submit to his will until we were out of Gabadian territory. 

If only Chakotay had still been with us, I'm sure that his negotiating skills would have been a definite asset in this situation. And I'm sure if Tom had been flying, Voyager would have sustained less damage. That's not to say that Baytart didn't do an excellent job, but it can't be denied that Tom is one hell of a pilot. He was born to it. He always seemed more alive at the helm of Voyager than he did anywhere else. I wonder how he's coped with being grounded all this time. I hope to find out shortly.

It's been a week now since the Gabadian 'escort' ships departed. Evgra Diral gave us strict instructions not to invade Gabadian space again, helping in the matter by issuing us with star charts that showed the borders of their territory. As Seven examined the charts, she discovered that our route would take us almost directly back to the place of our friends' exile. As it is the only M-class planet in this sector, and we need to replace our almost non-existent supplies, the Captain decided that we should return here. The only thing that seems to be bothering her about the situation is that, due to another Starfleet regulation, she will have to ask the enforced colonists' permission before embarking on her plans.

I have no doubts that Chakotay, Tom, Ayala or Gerron will have any objections to us gathering supplies, providing of course that they're still okay. The Captain, on the other hand, isn't so sure. She seems convinced that the men will harbour a grudge against her, and will refuse permission for an away team to be sent down. 

I don't know why she thinks so little of her former officers. They're all decent men. They always acted in the best interests of Voyager and I know they won't allow their friends to suffer now. They are aware that their remaining on this planet was all down to regulations and Janeway's intransigent position, but that, ultimately, she decided to abide by their own wishes. They wanted to leave the ship rather than be forced to live a life of secrecy, or have to spend the rest of the journey home in the brig. Yes, they will definitely blame the Captain for her lack of understanding and her almost obsessive regard for the regulations, but they won't blame anyone else.

I just wish Janeway would open her eyes and see them as everyone else does: brave, honest men who would have willingly died to save their colleagues. Instead, her vision is clouded by nonsensical rules and prejudice. It's a crying shame, and a poor reflection on Starfleet's so-called 'ethics'.

We've been in orbit for about an hour now. We've tried to raise the men on the communications device that was left with them. We haven't had any luck so far. Unfortunately, because of damage caused in the last Gabadian attack, we're unable to scan the planet's surface. I've just retrieved the co-ordinates of where the men were originally left, though. It was a very hospitable and fertile place. We're hoping they will have remained in the area, or that at least they won't have settled too far away from it. Once we're on the ground, and providing they're within range, we'll be able to use our tricorders to locate them. I hope that when we get down there, our friends will be well. I can't imagine what their reactions will be at seeing us again. 

What will they look like? How well will they have they survived? How will they have coped with the knowledge that they would never return to their homes in the Alpha Quadrant? Will Janeway, after restocking Voyager, simply abandon the men again? Or will she allow them to rejoin the ship? These are some of the questions that I've heard many of the crew discussing. No-one knows the answers.

For myself, I believe the Captain will stick to her guns and refuse to let the men back onboard. I hope I'm wrong, but with her jaundiced view of them all, I can't see her reaching any other conclusion. She won't want to be seen as being weak. Fourteen months ago, and a few months after leaving two young officers on another planet, she put four more good men off the ship because they didn't conform to Starfleet's ideals. If she reverses that decision, I believe she'll feel as though she's admitting that she was wrong. Something that Janeway never likes to be.

Me, I don't mind being wrong. And I really hope and pray that this time, I am.  
Just over a year ago, when we flew away from this planet and left Tom and the others behind, a part of me died. I don't think I could survive the same experience a second time. 

 

 **Tom's POV**

It's another beautiful day. The sun is warm, and as we traverse this peaceful stretch of river, the gentle rocking motion of our small boat is soothing. I've been lying down, watching Chakotay take his turn at rowing, but now I sit up and stretch, then look around, taking in the breathtaking scenery that surrounds us as we near our home. 

The glistening water we've navigated for the past four days flows unceasingly towards the vast ocean on the other side of the blue-hued mountains that lie in the distance, a few miles beyond our cabin. There's a wealth of diverse fauna here, from tiny silver fish that occasionally leap across our bows, to large elk-like creatures that graze on the grass-covered banks, unconcerned by our presence. 

I look up, watching a flock of birds wheel across the sky as they test their agility with incredible feats of aerial acrobatics, singing their joy as they push themselves to the limit, the way I used to push myself at the helm of Voyager. I understand their elation, and the feeling of total freedom that flying brings. 

There's not much I miss about my former life, but, occasionally, I still dream of piloting the great ship through unknown regions of space, evading hostile aliens with skill and imagination born of passion. Perhaps that sounds arrogant but, to my way of thinking, you can never succeed at something unless you truly love it. I loved flying, and I know I was good at it. But, despite the fact that I know I will never fly again, I'm not unhappy. I have other things to occupy me now.

I'm not quite sure how long we've been here, not in terms of Earth-time anyway. We did keep a record at the beginning, translating the shorter days into Earth's equivalent, but we gave up a while ago. What was the point of continuing with it? We know we're never going to leave here, so why waste time on something irrelevant? Instead, we've focused our attention on our everyday existence, and seeking out every scrap of enjoyment that we can. And mostly, the two goals have coincided. 

It's very satisfying to construct things for your own personal use; taking something that at first glance would appear to be useless, then converting it into something useful. I'd never experienced that kind of thrill before. I often think I get more enjoyment from making things than Chakotay does. 

Actually, we both love to be creative, but we have different areas of interest. While I take pleasure from adding to our stock of 'luxury' items, such as mats woven from reeds that grow in the nearby lake, or cushions made from some of our old, and now tatty, blankets stuffed with a cotton-like fibre from one of the native plants, Chakotay gains enjoyment from constructing larger things.

Although I consider the cabins to be our most ambitious, and, to me, the most satisfying projects to date, I don't think Chakotay would agree. He and Greg built what they both refer to as 'the boathouse', but what _I_ would call a glorified shed. Whatever name it goes by though, it's pretty clear that Chakotay had a great time making it, and that he's quite proud of their achievement. Especially as they'd secretly built this boat we're in as well, that came as a real, and very welcome, surprise. It's broadened our horizons considerably.

Before the boat, it was difficult to transport bulky items from place to place. If we found a toppled tree for example, it would sometimes take us days to haul it home, where we could make use of it. Now, with the aid of the boat, we can tow it downstream. It's made life a lot easier, and also more enjoyable. 

The boat enables us to get away on our own for short periods, and allows us to travel further than we were able to do before, in the same amount of time. I know Ayala and Gerron appreciate the freedom it offers, too, as they often go off for days on end, usually travelling in the opposite direction to Chakotay and me, mapping out the land further downstream. From our combined explorations, we've gained a pretty detailed knowledge of a fairly long stretch of this river.

We also know each other very well now, too. All four of us. Not surprising really, I know, considering we're the only Alpha Quadrant derived inhabitants of this planet. But what _is_ surprising, well, to me anyway, is how well we all get along. Although there have been occasions when we've had different opinions, we've never found anything that we couldn't work out through discussion. There's never been any animosity between us over anything. It's been wonderful, and I'm sure, given that we all want to see this spirit of co-operation grow even further, that it'll continue this way.

The most important thing though, and the one thing that's grown the most, is my relationship with Chakotay. Although he's basically still the same man he was on Voyager, at the same time, he isn't. I know that sounds like a contradiction, but it's true. Chakotay still lives his life according to his own high ideals, but he's far more relaxed here, more himself, and our relationship has benefited from that fact. 

I always loved him, long before we left Voyager, but now, it seems to have gone beyond that. I honestly couldn't ever imagine life without him, and I know he feels the same way about me. God knows what will happen if one of us dies before the other. I know I wouldn't survive his death; I wouldn't want to. It's probably the only real worry I have - watching him die, being left alone. I try not to think of it too often. I don't want to be lonely again.

That's what it was like on Voyager, before I asked Chakotay to meet me in the observation lounge. I always felt as though a part of me was missing, that I wasn't complete. That changed the moment he entered the room. He was so nervous, as nervous as I was, but as I smiled at him we both relaxed, knowing immediately that we wanted the same thing - namely, each other. It was such a relief to finally confess our feelings that the thought of being charged never worried us. We knew what our love would cost, but we were willing to pay the price. And, as I look at him now, sitting in front of me, his face radiating contentment, I'm thankful that we're together, even though it meant leaving Voyager, and our friends.

Ayala and Gerron are convinced they made the right choice, too, but I often wonder about Davies and Lorat, the two young officers who were forced to leave the ship several months before we did. I wonder if they're still together and as happy as the four of us are. I hope so. Although, I still have difficulty accepting the reason why they were brought to trial, that someone had a problem with them holding hands. I'll never understand Starfleet's crazy regulations, or Janeway's zeal in enforcing them; they're both beyond my comprehension and I don't like to dwell on either one. Instead, I think I'll occupy myself by engaging in my favourite hobby: watching Chakotay.

Actually, I'm not joking, I really _do_ love to watch him. He's an interesting study. I love the way he concentrates so fully on everything he does that he sometimes seems to disappear into his own little world. He's doing it now, staring off into the distance as he rows us towards home, almost as though he's on autopilot. I wonder where he is? What he's thinking?

My musings are interrupted as we round the final bend and come within sight of our cabin. Chakotay notices my perplexed look and turns around to follow my gaze. I know it's impossible, that I must be imagining things, but there seems to be too many people waiting for us at the water's edge. I can make out the forms of Ayala and Gerron, but who are the other two? And what do they want?

I rub my eyes, trying to ensure that what I'm seeing is real, and that's when I finally realise the identity of one person in the group. I shake my head in disbelief, unable to make sense of what I can see. Chakotay's arm encircles me and pulls me close as I stare in shock at the man on the river bank. Just how the hell did Harry Kim get here? 

 

 **Chakotay's POV**

 

I love the river. It exudes calm. I often find my mind just drifting away with the current as we travel along, my thoughts usually centred on the incredible beauty of this place. Even though, in effect, this world is just an exotic prison as we have no way of leaving it, I find a wonderful sense of freedom here. Something that I never had while I was on Voyager. And I know it's changed me, because Tom often tells me so. He says I'm more relaxed; more inclined to 'live for the moment' as he puts it, rather than analyse a situation to death, the way he says I sometimes did before.

I suppose he's right. I do try to enjoy every moment we have now, mainly because there's no way of telling when it will end. I've tried to put my greatest fear to the back of my mind, the worry that one of us will become ill with no way to treat the condition, because in the end, what will be will be whether I worry about it or not. There's no point dwelling on the inevitable.

I sigh softly and take a quick peek at Tom. He's watching me again. I'm not sure when he started it, but just lately it seems to be a recurrent pastime of his. I smile inwardly, amused at the thoughtful expression on his face, and go to speak, intending to ask what wonderful idea he has in his head _this_ time. Tom suddenly frowns though, and he's staring at a spot somewhere behind me. I've just rowed us into the straight stretch of water that leads to our home, so it must be something close to our cabin that's worrying him. 

I turn around and try to see what it is that's making him rub at his eyes, and what has put a look of total disbelief on his beautiful face; I'm stunned by what greets me. I reach out to Tom who's staring, transfixed, at the group of people waiting for us at the water's edge, and I pull him to me as our boat drifts slowly along with the current. It takes us closer and closer towards the unbelievable. How did they get here? And _why_ are they here? 

As I search in vain for answers, I gently rub Tom's back; the action is as comforting to me as it seems to be to him, and we slowly regain our composure, ready for whatever it is that brings Kathryn Janeway and Harry Kim to our tiny part of the Delta Quadrant. Wordlessly, Tom takes one of the oars, and together we take the boat to the shore, dragging it out of the water and onto the bank before we head for the silent group standing further along the river's edge.

It's a tense moment as we approach them, hand in hand, and I notice Kathryn's gaze flicker towards our intertwined fingers. I don't release my grip though, and I feel Tom's grasp tighten. There is no reason now to care what Voyager's Captain thinks of us, and we ignore the disapproving look that she sends our way. This is our home and we live by _our_ rules now, not hers or Starfleet's; she cannot intimidate us here.

I stand quietly, Tom close to my side, and wait for Kathryn to speak, but it's Gerron who breaks the silence as he suggests we all make our way to the cabins. I nod, catching Greg Ayala's eye, and I know he's received my unspoken instruction when he steps to one side of Janeway, watching her closely as we head towards our homes. I have no idea what she wants, and until I do I won't be taking any chances. I no longer regard her as the friend I once thought her to be, and I have no reason to trust her.

Harry Kim is a different matter. I trust _him_ implicitly. He was always a very good friend to Tom, and it was because of him and B'Elanna that our lives here were not as hard at first as they otherwise would have been. The supplies they provided without Kathryn's knowledge made a very big difference. I've often wondered if their actions were ever discovered. I hope their generosity, and that of the other crew members who helped us, was not a source of trouble for them. Maybe I'll get the chance to speak to Harry on his own and find out how they fared. If the look on his face is anything to go by, I think he'd like to talk to us, alone, too. Something's definitely worrying him, and I have a feeling it's not just whatever it is that's brought them back to our world. From the way he's acting, I would say he doesn't want to share his concerns with the Captain. We'll have to bide our time, and hope one of us can talk to him privately. 

I cease my musing as we near our cabins, nodding first to Greg and Gerron, and then towards the home that I share with Tom. Together, the four of us escort our visitors inside, and I wonder again just what it is that's brought our former colleagues here.

Our home is small, but cosy, The living area is warmed by the sunshine streaming in through a large window above the beautiful dark wood table, which Tom and I spent hours making; there's a fireplace on the opposite wall, where roaring log fires heat the room when the temperature drops, but at this time of year it's not often needed. 

Tom releases my hand and guides Kathryn and Harry to two chairs that stand next to the table. They sit, their eyes flickering around the room as they take in their surroundings; they look surprised by what they see. I don't think either of them expected us to be living as well as we are; the room boasts a few more items than just the bare essentials. 

I notice Kathryn gazing at one of my paintings. There are many of them, in various sizes, depicting the different areas of our world that we've explored; the pictures are dotted, in no particular order, around the walls. Tom prefers them to be displayed that way. He says that each one is a glimpse into our lives here; they're experiences and memories captured on home-made canvas for us to enjoy in the years ahead. As our thoughts about the past are usually quite random, he believes the positioning of the paintings should reflect that, and they shouldn't be hung 'uniformly'. I agree with Tom's thoughts, but, I admit, usually leave all the 'arranging' to him.

Kathryn clears her throat. 

I put a stop to my mind's wanderings, and instead, give her my undivided attention as she starts to speak. Unfortunately, my resolve to maintain a cool and calm facade falters after just her first few sentences, and I look in amazement at Tom. Judging by his expression, I don't think I'm the only one who can't quite believe what he's heard. 

Without even a single enquiry as to our health or welfare, our former commanding officer launched into a statement of her requirements.

Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship, Voyager, wants permission to send food and mineral gathering teams to our world. In return, she'll 'graciously' allow us unlimited access to our friends.

That is, until Voyager is repaired and restocked.

Then, with enough supplies to last until they reach the next unclaimed M-class planet, which is marked on a star chart she's somehow obtained, they'll leave orbit and recommence their journey to the Alpha Quadrant. 

From the way she phrased her statement, it seems clear that her ideas about us haven't changed and we won't be invited to go with them. And although none of us would actually _want_ to rejoin Voyager while those ridiculous regulations are still in place, to be taunted with what we can never have is more than just a little cruel. 

So, because of Janeway's inability to accept us for who we are, and our own decisions to stay with the people we love, as our friends head, hopefully, towards their families, Gerron, Greg, Tom and I will once again be marooned on this planet. 

Trapped in this exotic prison, which shall forever be our home. 

 

 **Harry's POV**

 

I can't believe the Captain just said that! I know, originally, I was expecting her to take the stand she has, leaving her former officers behind after taking what she wants from their planet, but still, it's a hell of a shock to hear her words and see the reactions of the men they concern. How could she do it? She didn't even say 'hello' or ask them how they were before she set out her plans! 

When we first materialised on this world and found our way to where the four men had built their homes, I was optimistic that the Captain would be lenient. She seemed very impressed by the amount of work they'd undertaken to create such a wonderful living environment, and I thought perhaps she would remember just how much they had all contributed to our life on Voyager. I was obviously wrong. 

Although, thinking about it now, maybe I should've guessed what she'd do from the way she 'greeted' Greg and Gerron.

It was about an hour ago that we arrived on the planet's surface, close to where the men had originally been beamed down along with their supplies. I'd never been here before - B'Elanna had been the one to accompany the men at the time - and although our Chief Engineer had described it to me in great detail, I was stunned and amazed by how beautiful and peaceful the place was. 

We were in a small, grass-covered clearing surrounded by trees that seemed to sing as the breeze moved through their delicate branches and shook the tiny silver leaves that covered them. Captivated, the Captain and I stood there listening for many minutes before we thought about activating our tricorders. 

Once we began our scans, though, it didn't take us very long to locate the men's settlement. Two life signs registered there, and we detected two others to the west of them, a fair distance away. I was overjoyed. The men were alive.

I'd had countless sleepless nights as we'd approached this planet; nightmares that the men had all perished. Now that I knew my fears were groundless, my main concern was what condition we'd find them in. After all, 'alive' doesn't necessarily equal 'well'. 

We followed the tricorder readings, wending our way through the trees and out into another clearing, the faint smell of wood smoke reaching us just before we stepped out from behind the bushes that lined the edge of the copse. The sight that greeted us was amazing.

Two well-constructed wooden cabins stood facing each other across an open area paved with large flat stones, while wispy smoke drifted up from the fire that burned in the centre of the terrace. It was obviously a communal area, a place where the men most likely gathered to talk and eat after a long day of toil. I could just imagine the four of them sitting there, laughing and sharing stories and perhaps reminiscing about their lives on Voyager. I wonder if they miss it? This place seems so idyllic that I wouldn't be surprised if they preferred their new home instead.

Greg and Gerron were so occupied with their tasks that they were oblivious to the scrutiny of the Captain and myself. The men were busy in the garden that stretched from the terrace down to the sparkling water of the river, their progress followed eagerly by a half-dozen small chicken-like birds that scurried after them, picking at the insects and grubs that the men uncovered as they pulled weeds from between rows of leafy plants similar to cabbages. We stood watching for a moment or two before the Captain signalled to me that we should make our presence known.

As we stepped forward, Greg groaned and stretched, moving his hand to his back as he stood upright. Gerron went to him immediately, standing in front of Ayala as he gave him a gentle kiss, and then reached around to rub his lover's aching muscles. 

Janeway froze, a look of absolute distaste written across her face. And that's when I should have known that she'd never consider allowing the men back aboard Voyager.

Giving me a quick sidelong glance, the Captain started to move again, almost reluctantly. I followed as she made her way towards the two men, who now stood, chatting, their voices laced with the love they so obviously shared. They looked up, startled, as our Starfleet-issue shoes scraped across the smooth, hard stones of the terrace, announcing our presence, and their astonishment and disbelief was written very clearly on their shocked faces.

Greg was the first to speak, his words tumbling out of his mouth as he tried to ascertain just how we'd come to be there. Janeway was quite abrupt with him, saying that she'd explain everything once Chakotay and Tom were present; she didn't want to have to repeat herself, she said. She didn't seem to care that they were now no longer her officers, and hadn't been for a long while; she still treated them as though they were junior members of her crew. 

Gerron ignored Janeway's rudeness, though, and offered to make us drinks, but the Captain declined and said she'd prefer to look around. Both Gerron and Greg seemed reluctant to let her out of their sight, and kept a close eye on us as we wandered to where two storage sheds stood side by side, stretching across the end of the terrace and almost linking the cabins. The doors to both of them were open, and I peered inside. Various tools, some that I recognised as having personally replicated for them over a year ago, lay on a bench at the end of the first one, and it held large stacks of wood, cut up in readiness for use as fuel. In the second, crates of vegetables were neatly arranged, freshly gathered and waiting to be preserved for when food would be harder to find. Everything seemed to be very well organised, and I could see the grudging respect for that fact etched on Janeway's face.

From where we now stood, another structure was just visible close to the water's edge. We ambled down to it, and Gerron explained that it was used to house their boat. He also told us that that was where Chakotay and Tom were: out on the river. I checked my tricorder again, aiming it upstream, and found that the life signs it registered were moving closer to us. With a great deal of barely-controlled excitement, I trained my gaze on the tree-lined bend in the river a few hundred yards away and waited for my best friend and his lover to come into view.

It must have been about half an hour later that we got our first glimpse of them, their small craft drifting lazily into sight while its occupants sat looking quite preoccupied with each other. I couldn't believe the difference in their appearance since the last time I'd seen them. Even from that distance, their longer hair was obvious as it fell over their bare shoulders; neither man was wearing a shirt. I stared, marvelling at how well they looked, and gradually becoming aware of their startled expressions as their boat moved closer. 

My exhilaration at seeing them warred with nervousness as I watched them bring the craft to the bank and step out. The Captain moved to stand next to me as Chakotay and Tom linked hands and walked towards us, and I found myself wondering how I would ever get to speak to them without Janeway around. 

You see, B'Elanna has given me a mission to carry out, a message to pass on. A message that she says Chakotay will understand, even though its meaning is beyond my own comprehension. She wouldn't explain it to me, just insisted I pass it on, word for word.

I'm hoping now that I'll have chance to deliver it soon.

Chakotay has just finished speaking. With the agreement of the others, he's given Janeway the permission she required to gather whatever she needs from their world. I knew he would. I knew they all would. For all of them, and for Chakotay in particular, the welfare of Voyager's crew takes precedence over their feelings about the way they've been treated. They would never have denied their former crewmates the chance to continue their journey homewards.

The Captain has just risen from the table and is making her way towards the door. I follow, as I'm supposed to, but take my time, lingering just long enough to take hold of Chakotay's arm and pull him to one side before he can follow Janeway outside. She doesn't notice as I lean close to him and say the words that brings an instant look of surprise to his face: the message that B'Elanna wanted me to deliver.

"There's an east wind coming." 

 

 **Chakotay's POV**

 

Well, we did it. A week ago, we gave Janeway what she wanted: permission to collect food and minerals from this planet to restock and refurbish Voyager so that the ship can take her crew towards home. What else could we do? Despite the fact that we were shocked by the way the Captain virtually demanded our co-operation, we weren't about to let our friends and former colleagues down because of her behaviour. Apart from anything else, that would have meant us lowering ourselves to her level. None of us were prepared to do that. 

Janeway left the cabin almost as soon as we'd agreed to her 'requests', getting up from the table and heading out the door without a backwards glance. Which was just as well as it turned out, because if she'd seen my reaction as Harry whispered to me when he passed by, I'm sure the Ensign would have been in for some prolonged interrogation as to what he'd said that had managed to put such a look of surprise on my face. But, by the time I'd followed her outside, I had been able to regain my composure, and I know she suspected nothing.

Tom, on the other hand, took one look at me as I stepped out into the sunshine, and was immediately aware that something had happened. And he concluded that it had something to do with Harry. Deciding that whatever it was needed further investigation, he argued with Janeway that access to our friends should begin immediately. She wasn't entirely happy about acceding to his wishes, but eventually she gave in and allowed Harry to stay behind as she was transported back to Voyager, alone. 

As soon as the Captain had gone, Tom found himself with his arms full of an exuberant Harry Kim, and the rest of us received the same attention from the Ensign shortly afterwards. He was completely overjoyed to see us and delighted that he could finally express his feelings freely, without any interference from Janeway. He assailed us with question after question, wanting to know everything that had happened to us in what he informed us had been the last fourteen months. We were happy to supply the answers, but managed to convince him that we should make ourselves comfortable on the terrace before we gave him the information he craved. 

The warm, evening sun shone brightly, even though it was slowly edging its way towards the horizon and would disappear in just under two hours, the heat it provided bouncing up from the grey stones as we seated ourselves on large cushions that Gerron had brought from his cabin. Tom fetched some wood from the shed, banking up the fire so that he could cook a meal for us to enjoy later. (Just vegetable stew, but as Harry told us afterwards one of the best meals he'd had in ages.) Once settled, we began the task of answering everything that Harry asked us. 

The Ensign's curiosity was almost boundless, and we were still talking as day gave way to night and the sky became dominated by our planet's large silver moon. Its arrival brought with it an occasional shriek or howl from a few of our nocturnal neighbours. Despite their noise, they are shy creatures that generally keep themselves to themselves and very rarely come into view - although, I have to admit some of the sounds they make can be quite startling. It took us quite a few moments to convince Harry that none of the animals or birds were as ferocious as they sounded. Sighing with relief, and having temporarily exhausted his supply of questions, he set about filling us in on everything that had happened on Voyager during the time we'd been away from her. Janeway had already mentioned the attacks they'd suffered and the damage the ship had sustained, but hadn't told us more than she'd considered necessary. Harry's account was far more detailed, although, even by the time he'd finished, I could see no reason for the message that B'Elanna had sent me via him.

I was puzzled. Had B'Elanna really meant to tell me what she had? Or had she forgotten what the words actually meant? After all, there had never been cause to use them before. 

The message was one of many that a former colleague of ours in the Maquis had proposed we use as a way to secretly convey the status of various situations, and the possible outcomes of those situations. He had been a student of old Earth literature, and had picked out quotes from some of his favourite stories. I believe the one B'Elanna had used came from a tale about a fictional detective. (Sherlock Holmes, I think, although I'm ashamed to say I never did, and still don't, know the name of the specific story.)

I sat, lost in thought, the happy voices of my friends breaking through my musings from time to time as they laughed and joked with each other. Eventually, I came to a decision. As Harry hadn't made mention of it to anyone else, and as the excitement of the reunion had made Tom forget his suspicion that something was wrong, I thought it would be prudent to keep the message and its possible meaning to myself until I could clarify it with B'Elanna. 

That opportunity presented itself three days later.

We had sought out the communications device that had originally been left with us - we hadn't needed it previously so it had been stowed in the back of the wood shed - and via that, Harry kept us up to date with both the ship's repairs and the comings and goings of Janeway's away teams. 

The teams were being sent to places that the four of us, because of our limited means of transport, would never be able to get to; places that were great distances from our homes. I'm not sure how the areas were selected as the ship was still incapable of conducting planetwide scans at that point. Perhaps the land was surveyed by shuttle. I don't really know. What I think, though, is that the Captain picked these out-of-the-way places deliberately. I believe she was doing her best to limit her crew's contact with us; she saw this as a 'legitimate' way to renege on her agreement, and keep us from seeing our friends.

Whatever the reason, the result was that the crew were either involved in the supply missions or they were detailed to work on repairs to the ship, and that left little time for anyone to visit us. B'Elanna was exceptionally busy, and her workload prevented her from even speaking to us, let alone visiting us on the planet. 

Finally, though, we heard from her.

Tom and I had just finished breakfast when she contacted us to say that she'd been given the day off and, within the hour, would be transporting down to the planet. She arrived barely thirty minutes later, and what she had to tell us left us completely shocked. She had to repeat her story twice before we could fully comprehend what she was saying. 

Even now, four days later, I still find it hard to believe.

Can it really be true? Is it possible that Tuvok and the Doctor will reach the conclusion that everything seems to suggest they will? Do they have any other choice? Will Voyager soon have a new Captain? I hope to have the answers to all these questions very soon.

For now, all I can do is sit in my old quarters and wait. 

The trial will be over shortly. 

 

 **B'Elanna's POV**

 

So much has happened in the last ten days. 

Before we took up orbit around this planet, most of my time was spent overseeing repairs in engineering, and my workload increased even further once we had access to the new materials which the away teams brought back to Voyager. We'd already managed to fix a great deal of the damage with the meagre resources we'd had, but because, amongst other things, my department was understaffed, there were still many repairs outstanding.

During the last attack by Evgra Diral and his fellow Gabadians, two junior crewmen were injured, and I was informed that they would both need to spend several weeks in sickbay. They had been badly burned when one of the consoles they were working on exploded in an enormous shower of white-hot sparks, sending both men flying backwards, like rag-dolls, to smash with sickening thuds against the wall. Although they would both recover, the Doctor announced that they were in need of extensive surgery as their injuries were too severe to be corrected by any other means. 

At first glance, while this situation was most unfortunate, it wasn't what anyone would really consider remarkable - incidents such as this one are an everyday hazard in our line of work - but this time, first impressions were to be proven incorrect; this usually unremarkable occurrence was to lead to the incredible and almost unbelievable situation that we presently find ourselves in.

It was afternoon, the day before we entered orbit. I was finishing up some routine, but necessary, maintenance work in the lower part of the ship. Normally, this task would have been completed hours previously, but because the two men who would usually carry out the work were in sickbay, it had been delayed and left to me.

As I replaced the inspection panel that I'd removed earlier, a soft sound caught my attention. Thinking it was perhaps caused by something that was on the verge of malfunctioning and was unintentionally giving me a welcomed warning, I decided to investigate. 

I made my way in the direction that I'd determined the noise had come from, stopping and listening carefully from time to time. I heard the sound again just as I neared the little-used observation lounge at the end of the corridor. I noticed that the lounge's door mechanism had stuck, preventing it from closing completely. I was just preparing to give it a more thorough examination, when I became aware of movement at the edge of my vision. Cautiously, I peered into the room's semi-dark interior. 

The sight that greeted me shocked me to the core.

Stifling my almost overwhelming urge to shout a stream of expletives, I quickly and silently backed away and then headed straight for the bridge. I had to find Tuvok immediately and tell him what I'd seen. 

Within a few moments of relating my experience, our Chief of Security began an investigation. I stood next to him, watching as he activated the observation lounge security vid. There was little light in the room, and he therefore had to compensate by enhancing the image, but still he was able to confirm that what I'd told him was true. Wanting to be absolutely certain, though, of what it was we had both now apparently witnessed, he decided to set in motion a plan to collect further evidence in readiness for what would, if more facts supported it, inevitably result in a trial. Noticing a hint of my distaste at the fact that I'd done what I knew I'd had to do, Tuvok eased my conscience by assuring me that, should it go so far that charges were brought and the outcome was the one I expected, there would be certain changes made afterwards. 

I was forbidden to speak about the incident, or his promise to me, to anyone else on Voyager, but I knew that, somehow, I had to get word to my former Captain that something was amiss. The only way I could think of to give Chakotay a hint of what had occurred, was to send a cryptic message with Harry. Recalling my days in the Maquis, I dredged up the code-phrase from the depths of my still-bemused brain, and asked him to deliver it word for word. It would give Chakotay enough information that he'd realise something serious had happened, and let him know that changes might possibly be made to Voyager's command structure. I hoped to be able to elaborate on the situation as soon as the chance came for me to transport to the surface.

A few days later, the Doctor provided me with the means to do just that.

I had been called into sickbay for a check-up. The EMH had insisted on examining everyone who had pulled double shifts for more than four consecutive days, and he was subsequently less than pleased with all of us. His diagnosis in each of our cases was that we were suffering from exhaustion brought on by overwork. (Didn't _that_ come as a complete surprise!) Anyway, the upshot of it was that he informed the Captain that we should all be given time off. A new rota was organised, and when the time came for my scheduled break, I requested that I be allowed to visit my friends on the planet.

To my great delight, my request was approved, and I immediately contacted Chakotay with the news that I would soon be transporting down to the surface.

Chakotay and Tom were standing outside their cabin when I arrived. They both looked great! Harry had already told me how well they'd been keeping, but to see the evidence of it for myself was just wonderful. Many times before we reached this planet, I'd had visions that we'd find them all weak and frail from either hunger or some other malady, but the complete opposite was true; they looked fitter than I had ever seen either of them. There wasn't an ounce of fat on their tanned and muscular bodies, and they seemed extraordinarily happy. I wondered briefly, should what I was about to tell them lead to the outcome I hoped for, whether they would ever want to leave this place.

It was early morning. An ever-swirling, cool, grey mist covered the river, occasionally sending wispy tendrils out across the lower part of the garden and briefly obscuring the plants that benefited from the moisture it left behind. Greg and Gerron were already hard at work, transplanting seedlings into an already prepared patch of ground. Chakotay called to the two men and asked them to join us, and they quickly finished up. Ten minutes later, after Greg had brought in extra chairs, we were all comfortably seated around the table in Chakotay's and Tom's cabin. Sipping at the hot, aromatic drink that Tom had supplied me with, I leaned back in my chair and related my experience of four days before. 

The reaction I received was one of stunned silence.

Frowning, Chakotay asked me to repeat what I'd said. I did so, but all four men still seemed to find it difficult to believe. I understand their reaction. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would probably doubt the truth of it, too.

However, the truth is not for _us_ to either prove or disprove. That job has fallen to Tuvok and the Doctor. They will weigh up the evidence against Captain Janeway, and her fate will be in their hands. 

We're expecting the outcome of the trial any minute now, and I believe there can only be one possible verdict.

I have no idea what other evidence Tuvok's investigation brought to light, but the fact that Janeway was temporarily removed from command and the trial went ahead must indicate that what I witnessed in the observation lounge was exactly what it looked like: Captain Kathryn Janeway is in breach of the same Starfleet regulation that she has always so strictly enforced. 

The Starfleet regulation which states that same-sex relationships will not be tolerated. 

 

 **Tom's POV**

 

The sun has almost set, the last crimson rays just sneaking through the lower branches of the trees to reflect off the river's surface and turn the water a deep blood-red. The first stars start to show themselves. In the quickly-darkening sky, the tiny spots of light seem to glow more and more brightly as the sun slips closer to the horizon. Before long, their light will be all that's left to keep the blackness from enveloping us completely.

Today was hot, and I can feel the residual warmth rising from the ground beneath me. Chakotay is at my side, stretched out on the sun-baked earth, his arms wound tightly around me as we lie close to the riverbank. There's a peacefulness here; it surrounds and relaxes us, soothing our bodies and minds for the stressful days which we know are ahead. Closing my eyes, I snuggle closer to the warmth of my lover's body and let my mind drift back over everything that's happened since Voyager reappeared in our lives. 

It's been a very unsettling time. 

We had all been resigned to spending the rest of our lives on this planet, with just each other for company. We relied on each other, helped each other; we were all we had. Never in our wildest dreams did we ever expect to be visited by Kathryn Janeway and Harry Kim. To see them standing on the bank when Chakotay and I returned from our trip upriver, came as an incredible shock.

As it turned out, though, subsequent events were even more astonishing.

After Janeway had done her best to find a way around our agreement, and was able to limit our contact with her crew, the fact that B'Elanna was allowed to see us came as quite a surprise. She'd been given a day off at the Doc's insistence, arriving one morning just a short while after we'd finished breakfast. After she'd been hugged by all of us, I provided her with a hot drink that we're all partial to: a sweet-smelling brew made from a variety of tangy fruits and delicately-flavoured herbs that we collected on our travels. Settling herself in her chair, cup in hand, Voyager's Chief Engineer began to relate an amazing tale.

By the time she'd finished her account, I was completely stunned. 

Although I trust B'Elanna in every respect, and even though she repeated her story more than once, I have to admit that it wasn't until the trial was announced that I fully believed what she'd told us. It just seemed too preposterous: Kathryn Janeway involved in a sexual relationship with a woman? After the way she'd set six men off her ship for engaging in same-sex relationships, I thought the notion was absurd. And for her to be involved with someone for whom I care a great deal made the situation even harder for me to accept.

I finally _did_ accept it when the trial went ahead.

Tuvok, who, due to the ship being understaffed, was Janeway's First Officer as well as her Chief of Security, had gathered enough evidence to be able to bring charges against her. The Captain was immediately relieved of command, pending the outcome of the subsequent trial.

I think, by that point, we had all decided that Janeway _had_ to be guilty of breaking the very regulation that she, herself, had so stringently enforced, otherwise things just wouldn't have progressed as far as they had. And we were proven correct: a guilty verdict was returned. 

What we didn't expect, though, was for her to be found guilty of a further offence - something even worse: Blackmail.

The details didn't come out straight away. It was only when people began to question why charges hadn't been brought against the woman with whom Janeway had had a relationship, that the complete truth came to light. 

B'Elanna informed us that when she first approached Tuvok with what she'd seen in the observation lounge, (ironically, the same room where Chakotay and I had begun our relationship) a niggling thought told her she was doing the same thing that others had done to Davies and Lorat: she was passing on information about something that should never be an offence. But the underlying outrage she felt about Janeway's apparent hypocrisy overruled any other consideration. In her opinion, one with which we all agree, the Captain's 'do as I say and not as I do' stance needed to be exposed. What _really_ bothered B'Elanna, though, was the identity of the other woman involved. And the fact that someone who was totally innocent could be caught up in any punishment that would be meted out should there be a 'guilty' verdict.

Fortunately, Tuvok was aware of that possibility, too. Rather than act immediately, he decided to investigate further. He kept tabs on the whereabouts of the Captain and her lover, acquiring both visual and audio recordings of their encounters over the next few days. And it was through these means that he found enough evidence to dismiss any thoughts of bringing charges against anyone other than the Captain.

Even after the trial and the announcement of Janeway's guilt, Tuvok did his best to keep the other woman's name quiet. He'd hoped that he could spare her from becoming a subject of gossip and speculation but, as is usually the way, everything quickly became known.

Every single person on Voyager was disgusted with what they found out, and Tuvok had a hell of a time keeping Janeway safe from people who were intent on retribution. It was this situation which led to him calling a general meeting far earlier than he had intended.

At 1600 hours, less than a day after the trial had ended in Janeway's disgrace, virtually every member of Voyager's crew assembled in holodeck one. A skeleton crew still manned essential systems, but no-one missed out on what was to be an incredible series of announcements as everything was relayed to them at their work stations. Greg, Gerron, Chakotay and I were also invited to be present in the holodeck, and we listened carefully to all that Tuvok had to say. 

At the end of the acting Captain's speech, there was complete and utter silence. Everyone was well aware that life on Voyager would never be the same again. 

 

 **Chakotay's POV**

 

It's dawn; the start of a new day. A day that sees our return to a life we never thought we'd have again: a life aboard Voyager.

For the past week, Greg, Gerron, Tom and I have been carefully packing up all our belongings. Our cabins are bare now; our treasured possessions have been transported to the quarters made ready for us on the ship. 

It's been a time of great emotion for all of us.

Although there was never really any doubt that we would rejoin Voyager if we were asked to, we grew so accustomed to our life on this beautiful planet that all of us shed more than a few tears once we knew we had to leave.

But, leave we must. Our friends need our expertise to help them in their journey home; we can't let them down. 

In the last six weeks, the ship has been fully repaired; there is no evidence left that she was ever attacked by the Gabadians. Food stores are filled to capacity and power supplies are at maximum. Even after the three weeks it will take us to rendezvous with Baytart's shuttle, there will be more than enough of everything to last until we are well away from this region of space.

After all that has happened recently, I'm greatly impressed by that fact.

Everything could so easily have fallen apart after Kathryn Janeway's disgrace, but Tuvok took over the position of Captain and handled the situation with incredible calm and efficiency. His level-headedness and willingness to adapt saved this ship. We are all in his debt for the stability that he restored to Voyager. 

The actions he took, and the decisions he made, put an end to the tension and unrest that quickly built up when all the details of the trial became common knowledge. Before Tuvok stepped in and sorted things out, real trouble had been brewing.

No-one could understand how Janeway - whose position as Captain meant that she was duty-bound to protect everyone on board - could so callously use the most vulnerable person on the ship as a means to prevent an unwilling lover from leaving her. 

Fortunately, Naomi is far too young to know about the part she unwittingly played in the 'drama', or to understand anything her mother went through. 

Hopefully, Naomi will never know that the Captain threatened to put her off the ship if Samantha stepped out of line. She won't find out that her mother never wanted to be in a relationship with Janeway in the first place - that Samantha Wildman was coerced into the union after going to Kathryn for advice. Advice which led to a moment of unexpected comfort that she was later told would be used as evidence to bring charges against her unless she submitted to Janeway's will. 

Naomi will never know the misery her mother went through in the eighteen months that Janeway controlled their lives.

Yes, that's right: eighteen months. These sordid events began long before Davies and Lorat were charged and put off the ship. 

And to think that at one time Tom thought Janeway was suffering from jealousy because I had chosen him as my lover instead of her! It wasn't jealousy that fuelled that woman, nor was it love - it was power-lust, pure and simple. She had to control _everything_ : the ship, the crew's personal lives, even her own 'lovers'. And she believed that all her senior officers should be like her. Her attitude towards me at the time that Tom and I were formally charged was one of disdain; she didn't think I was a 'real man' because I valued love and truthfulness more highly than I valued my position as her First Officer. What strange ideas she held, and still holds.

But, let me get back to telling you about the aftermath of her trial. 

When the crew found out about Janeway's actions regarding Sam and Naomi, Tuvok soon realised he had a serious problem on his hands. Even though she was under close guard in the brig, threats were constantly made against Janeway's life. And although it had originally been decided that she would be kept incarcerated, Tuvok acknowledged the fact that he wouldn't be able to guarantee her safety for the length of time it would take to reach the Alpha Quadrant. He made a decision: Janeway would have to leave the ship - immediately. 

His decision didn't bother Janeway in the slightest, though - she had realised all along that she wouldn't be able to stay on board. 

From the moment Tuvok had first approached her with the damning evidence he'd collected, she'd known she was going to lose everything. The trial turned out to be merely a formality as she didn't contest anything that was presented against her. She admitted her guilt from the outset, hoping, she told us later, to shorten the trial so that she could leave the ship as quickly as possible. (She hadn't known then that Tuvok and the Doctor weren't planning on giving her the option of leaving - that they'd agreed she should be kept in custody.) 

The problem for Tuvok now was that Janeway couldn't be allowed down to the planet; her life would definitely have been at risk if she'd come into contact with any of the away teams that were still being deployed. His solution was to send her elsewhere.

Announcing his decision on the holodeck, he first told everyone that the rules regarding life on board were going to change. He stated that as a precedent had been set for disregarding regulations when deemed necessary for the good of the ship, the rule regarding same-sex relationships would also be set aside. The precedent he cited was the joining of the Maquis crew with Voyager's Starfleet crew. 

I know that confused a few people at first, but once it was explained to them they were more than happy with Tuvok's insight. 

He said that according to Starfleet's rules, the merger should never have happened. Anyone who has a criminal record or is suspected of criminal activity is precluded from even _applying_ to join Starfleet. As the Maquis were all deemed to be wanted criminals, they shouldn't have been allowed to serve as Starfleet personnel on Voyager, no matter what the reason. He followed up by saying that the rule was ignored because we all had a much greater chance of returning to the Alpha Quadrant if we worked together rather than separately. This was still the case, he added, and although it wasn't his only consideration, it was one of the main reasons he had decided to ignore the 'same-sex' ruling; by dropping the regulation, much-missed and highly-skilled men could be welcomed back to the ship, and everyone would benefit from their return. 

That led him to the topic of Janeway's fate.

A few days before, a ship using long-range scans had detected Voyager, and the vessel's Captain had spoken to Tuvok. The contact had been friendly but had ended once it was clear that neither side had anything they wanted to trade. The alien vessel had continued on its course, but as it was still within communications range the day Tuvok's problem with Janeway became apparent, he decided to contact them again.

The outcome of the renewed communications was that the alien Captain agreed to relay messages between Voyager and the governing body of Delkarvik Prime - a place we had visited over sixteen months earlier. Discussions had gone very well, and Tuvok announced to the crew assembled in the holodeck that he'd received permission for Janeway to be taken to that planet by shuttle. And that's why we will be rendezvousing with Baytart in three weeks time. He and two security officers departed with Janeway the day after the arrangement was made. We will be meeting the returning shuttle part way, as, according to the star charts they supplied, the safest route away from the Gabadian's territory entails a detour in that direction. 

It will be a relief to have the shuttle and her crew back safely, and also the two other men who will be accompanying them. All of us are looking forward to seeing Davies and Lorat again. Tuvok said that the Delkarvikan government had managed to contact them for us, and the men were overjoyed that they were to be allowed back to Voyager.

I think by this point in the proceedings, the crew believed that Tuvok's announcements were at an end. But they were wrong. He still had one more important statement to make: his position as Captain would not be permanent. He would be relinquishing command the day before Voyager left orbit.

Yesterday was his last day as Captain. 

Today, four men will again be officially recognised as members of Voyager's crew. One of them returns to his post as Senior Pilot, another will become Chief of Security (freeing Tuvok to concentrate solely on the job of First Officer), yet another will return to his previous rank of crewman. The last will take the position of Captain - a position he hasn't held since he was a Maquis 'rebel', and which he has never before held whilst serving with Starfleet. And in a few weeks, our ranks will swell again when Davies and Lorat return to take up their former positions.

It's been a time of great upheaval. But as I stand here hand in hand with Tom, waiting for us to be transported off this world for the very last time, I have to say that I'm very proud of this crew; they have weathered the storm well. When we are once more headed for the Alpha Quadrant, I hope that life will settle down into a comforting routine for them, and I shall try to ensure that everything returns to the way it used to be - with, of course, two important exceptions. 

The first is that with regard to relationships there will never again be any necessity for a person to camouflage their true feelings because of the fear of reprisal. Everyone is free to love whoever they choose, regardless of gender. 

And the second exception is that the crew can rest assured that their new Captain will never hide anything from them. 

To both these ends, I've affixed a sign to my office door. Just six little words as a reminder of what happened, and a promise to everyone that nothing like the terrible situation we went through will ever happen again. 

The sign reads: "No more secrets. No more Lies."

I think that says it all.


End file.
